Foster's Asylum for Imaginary Monsters
by TRikiD
Summary: A funnier, dirtier, and more offensive AU of Foster's Home. I won't spoil anymore here.


**Rated T for language, violence, and other offensive and sexual themes.**

* * *

Foster's Asylum for Imaginary Monsters

Welcome to Foster's Asylum: Part 1

He was trapped, trapped like a rat in a maze. He was being hunted by two monsters, one human and one inhuman. The human being his evil younger brother, and the inhuman one being his brother's vicious imaginary friend.

"Come out, com out wherever you are, Terrance!" The wicked voices of his brother and his imaginary friend chanted, as poor Terrance hid under the counter in the kitchen.

Terrance was a thirteen year old boy with a kind soul, proper posture, and great hygiene; his skin was smooth and acne-free, and his short black hair was always combed back like a true gentleman; his attire usually consisted of a khaki plaid vest over a long sleeved white shirt, along with khaki jeans and black flats. He truly loved his younger brother, but when he created a monster like Bloo, it was difficult to make Mac understand that he wasn't his enemy.

But that's just how Mac was. Just plain evil, as well as Bloo.

Suddenly, one of the cabinet doors Terrance was hiding behind was ripped from its hinges, revealing two evil shadows: Mac and Bloo.

Mac was an eight year old with pale skin, who always wore a black long-sleeved shirt underneath a red t-shirt, black jeans, black and white sneakers, a black backpack; and short black locks atop his head, most of them covering his right eye, for which he hated others to see for some unknown reason.

Bloo, despite not actually being blue, was a two foot tall, thumb-shaped blob imaginary friend, and he had many vampire traits in which Mac created him with; his skin was flawless white, his demonic eyes were crimson, he had noticeable large and sharp fangs, and he had a grand pair of powerful wings on his back.

"Time ta play, Terrance," Mac sang mockingly as Bloo chuckled darkly, but Terrance suddenly bolted out of the cabinet and dashed into the living room with Mac and Bloo close behind.

"Where ya goin', Bro?!" Mac shouted as he and Bloo started chasing his older brother around the couch.

"Yeah! We just wanna KILL you!" Bloo taunted while taking flight, but he decided to prolong the agony and chase Terrance in circles around the couch with Mac.

"Please, I beg you, Mac! I don't want to play these games anymore!" Terrance pleaded, his voice had a thick English accent.

"Why? They're fun!" Mac argued.

"Only for you!" Terrance argued back, "Can't you see I'm not your enemy?!"

"Of course you're not our enemy—you're our toy," Bloo pointed out with a hiss and a large smile, as he began hovering in the air to watch his creator chase his older brother.

"Please, Blooregard! I didn't do anything wrong!" Terrance begged.

"It's Bloo, not Blooregard! Ya fuck!" Bloo snapped, hated being called by his full name.

"Watch your profanity!" Terrance gasped.

"Ya don't want me ta kill ya? Call me by my REAL name!" Bloo ordered.

"But why would your name by Blooregard, let alone Bloo, when you're not even that of the said color?" The cogs in Bloo's head suddenly screeched to a halt upon that realization, and he suddenly stopped the chase by landing in front of Mac.

"Um, excuse me? I'm trying ta make my brother wet his pants!" Mac scoffed in annoyance.

"No, he's got a point! Why the hell'd you name me Bloo when I'm not even blue?!" Bloo demanded, flapping his wings threateningly.

"Oh, my God…we go through the same damn thing EVERY TIME, Bloo!" Mac sighed in disappointment.

"Mac!"

"Zip it, Tea Time!" Mac snapped at Terrance, but then turning back to Bloo, "I tell you the same thing every time, Bloo: I name you Blooregard Q. Kazoo because blue is my favorite color, and because it sounds gay."

"YOU'RE GAY!" With that, the vampire blob lunged at Mac, sending him and his creator in a thrashing tumble as they fought for dominance. And as the boys went for each others' throats, they were unaware that they were knocking over and breaking several fragile objects.

Terrance was too terrified to pull them apart, so he just curled up into the fetal position behind the couch to wait it out. Luckily, the door to the disharmonious family suddenly opened, as Mac and Terrance's mother stood in the doorway with her arms full of stuffed grocery bags; and she just stood there, shocked by all the turmoil in her home…once again caused my her youngest son and his imaginary friend.

"Spineless creep!" Mac shouted.

"Square head!" Bloo hissed.

"Snake eyes!"

"Dora the Explorer!"

"DIRTY UNCLE FUCKER!"

"MAC! BLOO!" The thundering voice of Mary, Mac and Terrance's mother, rang throughout the house, finally putting a stop to the boys wrestling. The two immediately let go of each other and stood up with their backs straight; though, they secretly kept elbowing each other really hard in the side.

"Mother, thank goodness you're back! Mac and Bloo were trying to hurt me again; I tried to hide and run away, and then they started tearing the house apart!" Terrance bawled as he sprinted up to Mary, hugging her legs and burying his head in her skirt and continued to cry into it.

"Again? Oh, my poor Terrance. Here, take some PopTarts and watch some TV in your room; try to relax while I deal with the problem," Mary reassured while petting her oldest son's head, and she put down the groceries to grab out a box of strawberry PopTarts. As soon as he took the PopTarts, Terrance sniffled and nodded, and he then headed to his room and closed the door.

"Hey, why does HE get PopTarts?!" Bloo whined.

"Because his name isn't as gay as yours," Mac simply pointed out.

"AS gay?"

"Yeah. It's still pretty gay, but not as bad as yours."

"You two need to stop! I am fed up with the two of you always tearing this house AND this family apart!" Mary suddenly snapped, but the boys were never scared of her, so they just stared up at her nonchalantly. But Mary then sighed and rubbed her temples.

"We need to talk."

"Sure. Why the hell not?" Bloo scoffed while crossing his arms.

"Bloo, I need to talk to Mac—alone," Mary informed firmly, taking the boys by surprise.

"Hey, I ain't goin' nowhere," Bloo reassured with a smirk.

"You better not be," Mac hissed but couldn't help but grin back, as he reluctantly walked into his room with his mom, as she shut the door behind them.

But as Bloo was left alone in the living room he and Mac trashed, one certain fact came to mind.

"Well, I'm fucked."

Meanwhile, Mary sat her youngest son down on the bottom bed of the bunk beds he and Bloo shares, and Mac just turned away from his mom and crossed his arms.

"Mac, you know how tired I am of you boys fighting," Mary began gently yet firmly.

"But it's Terrance's fault! He's such a baby, and he's a square that's he's a sinful temptation! How could we NOT torture him?!" Mac protested while raising his voice.

"Why do you think he is the way he is?"

""Cause he's gay?"

"Mac!"

"What? It's funny!"

"No, Mac. He's that way because he's grown up and mature, and he knows how to take care of himself in the real world—you, on the other hand, can't seem to keep your grasp on reality—and I think it's all because of Bloo."

"Bloo?!" Mac was truly shocked. "Why?!"

"Because, Mac, you're eight years old, and you STILL have your imaginary friend," Mary pointed out with worry.

"So what?! I don't care what others think! They can just go fuck their uncles!"

"That's it! Mac, you have got to get rid of Bloo!"

"What?! No! I ain't gettin' rid of him, he's my best friend!"

"I don't care! I am your mother, and you will do as I say! You're getting rid of Bloo, and that's FINAL!"

As their conversation raged on, Bloo was secretly listening outside the bedroom, but even though he hardly ever gets scared of anything, this was an exception. Mac was his only friend, and now he was about to lose him.

* * *

Later that night, Mac was tossing and turning because Bloo kept him up while lounging in his top bunk, and he had the TV switched on.

"Ugh! Will you stop that?!" Mac snapped, as the annoying static and Bloo constantly changing the channels at light speed was too annoying for anyone to sleep through.

"Is it bothering you?" Bloo asked mockingly.

"Yes! So badly, I could kill you!"

"Then no, I won't stop."

"Go ta hell," Mac growled while burying his face back into his pillow, and wrapping it around his head to block out as much noise.

But as soon as Bloo went back to watching TV, he started landing on cruel and ironically channels with subliminal messages.

"Sorry ya have ta go!" a talk show host called.

"Go on, boy! Get outta here!" a boy in a black and white movie yelled at his dog.

"And just like that, it's gone!" a game show host announced to the contestant that won a new car.

"Featuring such blues classics like Feelin' Blue, Gettin' Rid of the Blues, and No Ones wants the Blues!" a male announcer read the list of a rock n' roll music playlist aloud.

Bloo was getting more and more irritated with each channel, so he switched over to a romantic drama…which really didn't help either.

"Are you—alone?" the female lead asked lustfully, but Bloo's eye twitched as he flipped through the channels rapidly again. But he soon landed on a nature documentary, and finally figured this couldn't possibly go wrong and leaned back on his pillow.

"The Grand Canyon—beautiful, spectacular, and mystifying; and one of the world's deepest, deepest, DEEPEST depressions the world has ever known," the smooth voice of a man narrated, but Bloo had had enough.

Bloo flipped through the channels at lighting speed again as he clenched his fangs in anger, but as he flipped aimlessly through everything, something suddenly caught his ears.

"Imaginary friends!" a female happily announced, and Bloo immediately froze and slowly flipped back to the right channel. When he landed on the right one, he heard the female announcer again, and he liked what he saw and heard.

"Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends is a wonderful, funderful, imagination habitation! We provide food, shelter, and a warm heart for imaginary friends looking for a place to call home! So, if you know of or have an imaginary friend in need of a home, then come on down ta Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends! Where good ideas are NOT forgotten!"

* * *

The next morning, Bloo woke up Mac early and dragged him out of bed to take him to the place he saw on TV. But as they strolled down an old sidewalk, Mac was confused when all he saw was a huge, old mansion with dark red paint, and spiked metal fences were surrounding the entire property.

When Mac tried to tough the fence, he was suddenly shocked, making him immediately draw his hand back and suck his finger in pain.

"You sure this is it?" Mac asked in disbelief.

"Yeah! Pretty cool, right?" Bloo questioned with excitement, as he and Mac approached a huge metal gate.

"Not really. The damn fence shocked me," Mac informed with a growl, but Bloo just smirked at him while pushing the gate open without getting shocked.

"Suck a dick," Mac muttered while crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.

"Oh, c'mon! You'll love it! The lady on the TV said it was some fantastical, magical place for imaginary friends who need a place ta crash," Bloo explained while leading his creator down the sidewalk that lead to the large front porch of the mansion. And Bloo then banged a fist on the door.

"Yeah, I guess so…but-," Mac tried to protest, only for his imaginary friend to interrupt.

"But nothing! Listen, with me livin' here, that bitch you call 'Mom' will be happy, you'll have Terrance all ta yerself, and you can visit me everyday. It's perfect!"

Suddenly, the door creaked open to reveal a tall, old and grey rabbit creature with a large white mustache; dressed in white spats, a black tuxedo, a black top hat atop his head, and a monocle resting over his left eye.

"Good day, Gentlemen. How may I be of assistance?" the rabbit asked, his voice had a thicker English accent than Terrance.

"Cool! A bunny butler from Gaymerica!" Bloo cheered.

"Ignore him! He knows Gaymerica is actually England," Mac quickly pointed out.

"My good man, I will have you know that I am Mr. Herriman, the head of business affairs of this facility! And in no way a butler, or any member of service trade!" Mr. Herriman angrily corrected, "Now, if you will please state your business?"

Mac and Bloo only stared at each other for a moment in disbelief.

"We don't believe you," Mac declared.

"Definitely don't believe you," Bloo added firmly.

"Very well. If you have no business here, then I shall bid you both farewell. I have more important things to attend than to deal with an indecisive child," Mr. Herriman sighed while attempting to close the door.

"Hold it!" Bloo snapped and suddenly stopped the door from opening.

"My God!" Mr. Herriman gasped.

"Listen, Mr. Gayman!"

"Herriman!"

"Whatever! Ya REALLY gotta lemme stay here! See, my boy here, his name's Mac and he has the WORST life ever! I can't even begin ta explain it in words…but I'll try," Bloo began dramatically.

"What?!" Mac exclaimed.

"Ya see, this poor, pathetic kid lives all alone with me, his brother, and his mother in this horrid, trashy, rundown apartment that has no electricity OR running water! And man, oh man, does it stink! I ain't kiddin' either, it's got this foul, disgusting smell that'll make ya hurl."

As Bloo went on, both Mac and Mr. Herriman only glared at him with their arms crossed, but they remained quiet to see if he could make this better or worse.

"Oh yeah, and his brother is just this HUUUGE jerk, who's like, eight feet tall and weighs three hundred pounds and has no brains! So, he's, like, this full-on bully that beats us little wimps up everyday of the week!" As Bloo explained that, he began slugging Mac in the stomach incredibly hard, making him clutch his stomach in pain and throw up.

"And there's no one ever around for authority 'cause his mom works, like, fifteen jobs everyday of the week, including weekends; not ta mention she never gets home 'till, like, midnight! So, yeah, each and everyday, me and Mac are killed dead by his big, stupid brother."

Mac wanted to correct his idiot friend so badly, but he knew that if he said anything, he would ruin his chances of getting Bloo a place to stay here. So, he continued to remain quiet and stare coldly at the white blob.

"And the only thing he's got ta live for in his crappy life is me, his best buddy Bloo. But get this! This bi-I mean his mom says he's too old for an imaginary friend, and that he's gotta get rid a' me! It's the most fucked up thing ever, right?! So, here I am on my knees!"

"Nuh-unh."

"What?" Bloo turned to find his creator pointing down, and he then looked down and realized he wasn't actually on his knees.

"Nit picky bastard," Bloo growled under his breath low luckily enough for Mr. Herriman not to hear him, and he then dropped to his knees and clasped his stubby hands together while glancing up at Mr. Herriman in a pleading way.

"So, here I am on me knees at your mercy, kind sir! And if you could only find it in your big, gay heart ta open up your beautiful and spacious home ta this poor, rejected, hated, and unwanted imaginary friend—then maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't be so blue."

Bloo continued to wait on his knees while staring Mr. Herriman directly in the eyes, as he waited for an answer.

"If you buy this, you really are gay," Mac simply added.

"Very well. I shall arrange a tour for you," Mr. Herriman sighed in defeat while adjusting his monocle.

"You're kidding, right?" Mac asked flatly.

"Shut up, man! I don't wanna have ta bite another guy's neck just ta get what we want," Bloo hissed quietly, as Mr. Herriman hopped off to the other side of the room.

"I thought you loved biting people's necks."

"Yeah, but my parole officer says I shouldn't encourage the habit anymore."

Mr. Herriman then picked up an old intercom microphone from its hook on the wall, as he brought it to his lips and raised his voice.

"Miss Frances, your presence is requested in the foyer! There are two gentlemen here in need of a tour!"

"Kk! Be right down, Hon!" a giddy female voice giggled on the other side of the intercom.

"She will be with you momentarily," Mr. Herriman informed with his voice lowered, as he placed the microphone back on its hook and hopped out of the room.

But after Mr. Herriman left, the boys finally got a good look of the other inhabitants; there were all kinds of crazy, evil looking friends like Bloo…well, not exactly like Bloo. There were ones with matted fur, huge and yellow teeth, hundreds of demonic eyes, giant dragon wings, etc.

"They're even crazier-looking than you," Mac whispered to Bloo in awe.

"I know! Isn't it just the dopest shit?!" Bloo cheered giddily.

"You poor baby, that's why you shouldn't scissor with Scissors," a calm voice, much similar to the one on the intercom, came from the top of the stairs. Mac and Bloo turned to find a young blond woman walking down the stairs with a large, green mucus-like imaginary friend, and his right arm was wrapped in bandages.

The woman had short blonde hair tied up into a smooth and rounded bun, she wore a red jacket over a white t-shirt with the PowerPuff Girls on it, a black skirt, and black sneakers.

The mucus friend nodded shamefully once they got to the bottom of the staircase.

"Scissors, could you come here, please?!" the woman called, and a razor sharp pair of scissors with only two thin black legs came running in.

"What do you say, Scissors?" the woman demanded softly.

"I'm sorry I got too rough. Ya know I love ya, George," Scissors apologized while blushing, his voice was nasal.

"Thank you. Now, go play," the woman chuckled, and the two ran off, "BUT NO SEX!"

The lady then sighed and smiled, as she approached Mac and Bloo.

"Hiya, guys! I'm Frances Foster, but you can call me Frankie if ya like!" Frankie happily introduced herself.

"How old are you?" Bloo asked with a seductive smirk while checking her out.

"Twenty two."

"Yes!"

"Yeah, well…I'm Mac, and this is my friend, Bloo," Mac began grimly.

"Hey, Bloo. Hey, Mac. So, you guys wanted a tour of the place?" Frankie asked with a smile.

"I'd like a tour of your body, Sexy," Bloo purred with a wink.

"Ignore him. He knows sex with an imaginary friend is masturbation," Mac grimly pointed out.

"Well, I don't care!" Frankie suddenly snapped, her smile creepily large and her eyes twitched, but she then inhaled and exhaled and calmed down, "Anyway, follow me! Now, Foster's was founded in-."

"Miss Frances?! Your presence is requested in the third floor sleeping quarter!" Mr. Herriman suddenly announced on the intercom system.

"What's wrong?!" Frankie called in concern.

"It is Duchess! She-!"

"Oh, please, Darling! I'm fine! No need to waste your time and energy on me!" a Middle Eastern voice suddenly overlapped Mr. Herriman's, her voice sounded timid and gentle.

"Nonsense, Duchess! You're royalty, and your every need must be attended to!" Mr. Herriman protested.

"I'm just washing my bed linens, Mr. Herriman! I can do that on my own, I swear!"

"Hush! Do not tire you fragile royal vocal chords anymore, Duchess!"

"Shiva dammit!"

"Aw, poor Duchess. The royal life has made her so fragile. Listen, guys, I'm really sorry, but I gotta help Duchess. But don't worry! I'll get someone else to give you the tour, k?" Frankie explained as she backed away towards the stairs, and her creepy smile and eye twitch was back again.

The woman then turned her head to the right, and she cupped her hands over her mouth and raised her voice.

"WILT, TOUR PLEASE!"

Mac and Bloo were surprised at the kind woman's sudden harsh voice.

"Wilt'll take care of you guys. Just wait there! I'll catch ya later at the end of the tour!" And with that, the blonde woman disappeared up the stairs.

"Ok, yes! I get it, Lonnie! I'm sorry, ok? Now, would ya just shut the hell up already?!" came a deep voice, as Mac and Bloo turned to the left to find another imaginary friend walk in, as he was holding a flip phone to his ear. And whoever was on the line suddenly said something that made him blush and sigh.

"Fine…love you too," he sighed in defeat, rolling his eyes and closing his phone to hang up, "What a bitch. Anyway, hi! Name's Wi-!"

As soon as Wilt laid eyes on Bloo, his fur instantly stood on end and he bared his teeth while glaring daggers at the little blob.

"Vampire scum," Wilt growled.

"Werewolf shit," Bloo hissed back, the two glaring daggers at each other.

And Bloo was true to his word: Wilt was a werewolf; he was ten feet tall, mostly just legs, and covered in messy dark red fur; he had a pointed-edge blue and white one on his chest; both eyes were on stalks like a snail, as they were both bright yellow, but the left stalk and eye were broken and bent; he was missing his left arm, as his right arms had huge and sharp claws, and he only wore a pair of old, torn up black and white high tops; along with a red, white, and blue-striped band on his wrist.

"You two know each other?" Mac questioned with a cocked brow.

"No, but he's a werewolf," Bloo hissed, not taking his eyes off of Wilt.

"And he's a vampire," Wilt growled, also refusing to look away from Bloo's red eyes.

"So, we're naturally enemies," the two finished in unison, making Mac scoff and roll his eyes.

"Right…can we just get on with the damn tour already?" Mac sighed.

"Sure thing. Just keep your monster on a leash," Wilt reluctantly replied, pointing a firm index claw at Bloo.

"Oh, you're one ta talk, Wolfy," Bloo protested with a sneer.

"Can you stop with the dick measuring contest already?!" Mac snapped.

And with that, Wilt went ahead and lead the boys through out the house; taking them to waiting rooms, sitting rooms, living rooms, parlors, leading them through hallways, passed Mr. Herriman's office, wash rooms, powder rooms, bathrooms, the laundry room, the dining room, tea rooms, the pantry, and then the kitchen.

But as soon as they got to the kitchen, they were stopped by a strange robotic imaginary friend, with the body of an airplane, the legs of a chicken with two sharp claws on each foot, the mouth of half of a giant red bear trap, and the head of a palm tree; all parts in which were completely made of metal.

The robot just stood there, as the purple bar with black optics with a little red line that darted back and forth, stared quietly at the boys for many awkward moment.

"Coco?" the robot finally spoke, its voice feminine but emotionless and monotone.

"No. I don't eat or drink sugar. Sugar is the Illuminati's cocaine," Mac flatly replied.

"Coco?" the robot repeated."

"Hell yeah, I want coco! And get me some marshmallows, some PopTarts, some soda and chips. And are you female, 'cause I'd totally hit that," Bloo rambled on with ecstasy.

"She wasn't askin' if you wanted coco, Dumbass. This is Herminator, but we just call 'er Coco 'cause it's all she says," Wilt explained impatiently, "Also, I wouldn't bother. Her vagina's just a painted on hole."

"Damn," Bloo muttered in disappointment.

"Then what was she saying?" Mac inquired.

"Ya want a sandwich?" Wilt joked with a snarky grin.

After meeting Coco in the kitchen, she tagged along with the boys for rest of the tour, as Wilt lead them through more hallways, into music rooms, play rooms, jumping rooms, the arcade, rec rooms, and he started showing them multiple different bedrooms.

But when they got to a certain room, they were greeted with yes another odd sight.

They saw Frankie again, only she wasn't alone; inside of a beautiful Middle Eastern royalty-themed room was the said blonde, accompanied by an imaginary friend even stranger than Coco. She was a about a foot and half taller than Frankie, with bright yellow skin, a Christmas tree-like tail with bells and shiny balls hanging on the end, an ugly short elephant trunk for a nose, and her face was mashed up like Picasso; and her attire was that of an Egyptian cotton white dress, black dress shoes with red and yellow striped thigh-high socks, and a Middle Eastern hat with a red ruby crest.

"Duchess, you're linens are filthy! Don't worry, I'll wash them for you again, Your Majesty!" Frankie cheerfully reassured while pulling Duchess' bed linens from her king-sized bed.

"But Miss Frankie, they are fine!" Duchess pleaded with innocent eyes.

"Nope! I've made up my mine! Not only will I wash your things separately from now on, but I will also only use water from the Swiss Alps," Frankie declared with a smile.

"Brahma, help me," Duchess sighed sadly.

With that, Wilt finally shut the door to Duchess' bedroom.

"Ya know, I can't but notice that she's got a vag for a mouth—wonder what her blow jobs are like," Bloo pondered aloud with an evil grin.

"You say that now—until she bites your dick off," Wilt awkwardly pointed out, "N-not that I would know."

"Who was that?" Mac asked the werewolf imaginary friend.

"That's Duchess, purebred imaginary friend with her own papers too, but we spoil 'er 'cause it pisses her off."

"She a bitch?"

"No, she's the kindest soul in the whole house, and that's why we do it."

"By the way, you know we're being followed by a monster, right?"

"Everyone's a monster here."

"Yeah, but not all of 'em are followin' us, are they?"

"Speakin' a' which, you guys got any REAL monsters here? Ya know, ones that are actually scary?" Bloo taunted while flying up to Wilt's face, smiling at him mockingly.

"Unlike you? We sure do," Wilt replied with a smirk, making it Bloo's turn to glare daggers at his arch enemy.

The red werewolf then lead them all to the backyard, where a giant, metal cage chained to the ground with thick chains was being thrown and bashed around under its restraints.

"They're called Extreme-o-Saurases. We lock 'em up out here 'cause they're nastier than any imaginary friend you could think of. So, unless you want your head bit off, I suggest ya stay the hell away from the cage," Wilt explained nonchalantly.

But just as they turned to leave, a giant tentacle with spiked balls suddenly stretched out from between the bars and grabbed Mac, flailing him around like a rag doll.

"AAAHH! PLEASE, DON'T RAPE ME!" Mac begged.

"I've seen enough hentai ta know where this is goin'," Wilt figured with a shrug.

"Coco," Coco beeped in agreement.

"Put him down, dirty uncle fucker!" Bloo shouted at the top of his lungs, taking flight in an attempt to either grab Mac or land a vicious bite on the tentacle, but it was too fast.

But even though Bloo couldn't save Mac, something else much bigger was coming to the rescue. Charging in was a large bull-like imaginary friend, only half Wilt's size, with matted dark purple fur, two massive black and curled devil horns, huge yellow fangs, a tiny pair of black devil wings and a little black devil tail; and all he wore were black leather pants.

The dark bull rammed his huge horns into the cage, making the creature inside roar in pain as it dropped Mac, who was luckily caught by the bull.

"Eres nino seguro—por ahora," the bull growled with an evil grin, as Mac stared wide-eyed into his glowing bright purple eyes. But as soon as he put Mac down, Bloo suddenly came flying up to him, assuming he was going to hurt Mac too.

But when the bull saw him coming, he looked directly into Bloo's eyes while his eyes glowed even brighter; the affect of his purple eyes suddenly made Bloo break in mid-air and hover right in front of the dark purple monster's face. Bloo couldn't pull himself from the trance, as his own demonic red eyes turned purple when under the spell, and his mouth was gaping like his soul was being ripped from his body.

"Coco!" Coco whirred angrily.

"No!" the bull growled is response.

"Coco co?"

"Si!"

"Co co co coco."

"Que?!"

"Co!"

"Ugh, fine!" the dark purple bull scoffed in defeat, his eyes stopped glowing and he released Bloo from the spell, causing him to drop to the ground like a rock.

"What the hell is wrong with you?! Felt like you were eatin' my damn soul!" Bloo snapped once he regained his strength.

"He was. Mac, Bloo, this is Ender; he's one of the most powerful friends here, and he'll steal your soul if ya piss him off," Wilt informed calmly.

"Then why didn't you steal mine? You looked pretty pissed ta me back there," Mac pointed out in confusion.

"I really, REALLY like little kids…but they also scare me, so I follow you secretly," Ender replied, his voice deep and guttural, while scratching the back of his head nervously.

"Yeah, ok…anyway, thanks, man. You saved my life and all, but don't read too much into it," Mac informed while rolling his eyes and crossing his arms.

"And I gotta admit, that even though nearly everyone we've met so far has either tried to kill or rape us—I really like it here. I think I'll stay," Bloo declared with a smirk, and he turned to the others, "Besides, I think we've formed an interesting little gang. We've got the fembot, the child molester, and even the black guy! What could be more perfect than that?!"

Coco suddenly started clucking loudly, as she ran around while dropping brightly colored metal Easter eggs behind her.

"What's she doing?" Bloo asked in disgust.

"It's disgusting," Mac added with a sneer.

"Yeah, she shits out these eggs whenever she gets excited, or just whenever she aborts the fetuses of unwanted pregnancies. Which ever comes first. Either way, there's a surprise inside each one of 'em!" Wilt explained with sarcastic enthusiasm.

"Ok…ew, but ok," Mac shuddered when Coco rolled the five eggs she just laid up to him, and he quickly poked one of them, fearing there was a fetus inside.

"This place is still fuckin' awesome!" Bloo whooped and jumped up into the air.

"So glad to hear it! So, you're staying, little guy?" Frankie giggled as she approached them.

"And it's just like ya said: you live here, I come visit you everyday, Mom'll never know, and get Terrance all ta myself," Mac began with a smile, ending the last part with a dark chuckle.

"U-uh, actually…there might be a problem with that plan, boys," Frankie reluctantly pointed out.

"What? He can't live here?" Mac asked in annoyance.

"I better! This is a free country, lady!" Bloo snapped and flew up in front of Frankie's face threateningly.

"Yes, it is. And yes, you can live here, Bloo…just maybe not forever," Frankie whispered sheepishly, "See, the advertisements you saw…well, they lied."

"About what?" Mac growled, and Bloo landed next to him while glaring at Frankie with him.

"Foster's is two things: a foster home and an asylum. This place is for dangerous imaginary friends who need rehabilitated, and…and when they are finally treated, they're adopted off to someone else because it's against the rules for them to make contact with the person who created them that way—into monsters."

Mac and Bloo only stared at the blonde in shock.

"Didn't you see the electric fence and watch towers?" Wilt asked mockingly, just to spite them.

"Well, then screw this place! It's awesome and everything, but I didn't sign up for adoption OR no damn rehabilitation! C'mon, Mac, we're leavin'!" Bloo ranted angrily while turning to leave, but he stopped once he realized Mac wasn't following him.

"Actually…you'd better stay here," Mac reluctantly admitted, looking worried and sad for the first time in years, maybe in his whole life.

"What?! C'mon, Mac! Adoption?! Rehabilitation?! Are you shitting me?!" Bloo was certainly NOT amused.

"I know, but…look, I don't know what else ta do right now, alright? Just-just stay here for now, and I swear I'll be back tomorrow to fix things. Is that ok, Frankie?"

"Yeah. He'll still be yours…but if a kid or licensed pedophile shows up to take him, you won't see him again," Frankie sadly informed.

…

"Ok," Mac finally admitted.

"Ok?! OK?!" Bloo exclaimed in shock.

"Dude, I swear, I'll be back. You'll be fine, man. If someone gives you the stink eye, then just bite their necks like you always do, right?" Mac tried to reassure with an awkward smile, given that he rarely smiles unless it's a wicked grin.

"Yeah…whatever, man…now, get outta here before I bite YOUR neck. You expect ta leave me in this dump, and not get on the list? I don't think so!" Bloo hissed with a pouty face and crossed his arms, making Mac chuckle and roll his eyes.

But the boy then left without another word, and Bloo secretly watched him as a tear threatened to prick at his eye while watching his creator leave.

"Hey, don't lie, Vampire Scum! You said you loved it here, remember?" Wilt mocked, and he walked closer to the little vampire blob and towered over him, grinning down evilly when Bloo turned and looked up at him with worry.

"Welcome ta Foster's Asylum for Imaginary Monsters."

* * *

 **I mean no offense to anyone, so please don't flag me!**

 **Anyway, yeah! I had this idea to recreate Foster's Home in this offensive, violent, and just down right adult-themed AU for those with a dirtier mind. I hope you enjoyed this chapter 'cause there's plenty more where it came from!**

 **Until the next chapter, I'm TRikiD, bye-bye!**


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